If You'll Pay Attention
by Ell Roche
Summary: Echizen Ryoma always admired Kikumaru Eiji. But Eiji had so many girls vying for his attention, that she knew he'd never notice her. And then she found out that she wasn't as invisible as she'd thought.


**Title: **If You'll Pay Attention

**Pairing:** Eiji Kikumaru/Echizen Ryoma

**Warnings:** Drama . . . which is to be expected from this fandom. Lol.

**Summary:** Ryoma always admired Eiji. But Eiji had so many girls vying for his attention, that she knew he'd never notice her. And then she found out that she wasn't as invisible as she'd thought.

* * *

Monday, May 3, was the worst day of Ryoma's life. It shouldn't have been, but it was. Before today, her top five worst days ever had all been days where she either broke or sprained something and was unable to play tennis for weeks or months as a result of that. Not playing tennis . . . she hadn't thought there was anything worse than that.

Now she knew better.

What in the world had she been thinking? Why had she agreed to go on a date with Ichima-senpai? Well, that was answered easily enough. It was simple, really; she had wanted to forget about her feelings for Kikumaru Eiji.

Needless to say, that had been an epic failure.

Had she ever wasted a day more than she had wasted yesterday? Her one day off a week from school was Sunday, and she let Ichima-senpai take her on a date. It wasn't even a fun date; it wasn't a tennis date. In fact, she had found out on the date that Ichima-senpai didn't know a single thing about tennis (except that she apparently looked "lovely" in a tennis skirt—pervert!). He had taken her to a scary movie; throughout the entire thing, he kept frowning over at her, as if she wasn't reacting properly to it. Whatever that meant. It took all her control to keep her eyes open. Her cousin Nanako had made her promise not to fall asleep, or else she would have done so.

However, the terrible movie, which wasn't the least bit frightening, wasn't the part that ruined everything and made today the worst day ever. No . . . that happened after the movie was over. Because when it finally ended, and they got out to the lobby, Ichima-senpai put his arm around her. She scowled and shrugged it off, but he put it right back where it was before, as if he hadn't understood her blatant message: Don't touch me.

Only Eiji—which she daringly called him in her head—was allowed to touch her without permission. Even Momoshiro Takeshi knew that, and he had been her best friend for several years now.

Just as she was about to snap at Ichima-senpai and tell him the date was over—it didn't even live up to the minimum of expectations, not that she had really had any—Eiji had walked into the theater with Oishi Suiichiro: his doubles partner. Eiji's blue eyes had landed on her and Ichima-senpai. His mouth had fallen open in shock.

But the worst part . . . the absolute worst . . . was that Eiji had recovered, bounced over with sparkling eyes, and didn't pull her into a hug or glomp her. He grinned and said, "Have fun on your date, Ochibi!"

"Have fun on your date?" Ryoma snarled with clenched fists as she stalked toward the tennis courts for morning practice. She was late, very much so; sleep hadn't come last night. However, since she was the captain of the women's tennis club, she would excuse herself for the tardiness. "How can I possibly have fun on a date if you aren't my date, Eiji?"

Ryoma sighed and hung her head. Her ponytail slithered over her shoulder and swayed with every step she took. Maybe Akutsu-senpai would be available after school for a match. She wasn't in the mood for gentle and easy; playing against him was a wonderful way to blow off some steam.

The silence unnerved her. Normally, at this time of the morning, cheers resounded through the air. Especially since today was the start of the next round of qualifications for the Regular positions on the men's team. Girls from all years would crowd outside the fence and yell encouragement to whichever athlete had caught their attention. Aside from Tezuka-buchou, Eiji was the most popular, even beating out Fuji-senpai; his loving personality and sweet disposition just demanded women hand over their hearts.

Ryoma had done so, and even though she knew he would never notice her in a romantic sense, at least he knew her name and gave her some of his time and attention. A wave and a smile were all the fangirls got these days—all he had ever given them. And, like a spoiled toddler who never learned how to share, she resented the little bit that he gave them. His smiles were brilliant, white, and genuine; perhaps, due to his addiction to toothpaste. Ryoma knew exactly how warm a smile from Eiji felt, and she selfishly wanted to keep all that warmth for herself.

All she could hear was the sound of one tennis ball being hit across a court. Again, that made no sense; several games should be in progress. Then she picked up the sound of tennis shoes slapping against the clay. Eiji, she recognized his footsteps; each pair of shoes he owned—and oh, were they many—made a unique sound. She had memorized them all.

But there was something . . . odd in the sound of his footsteps today. They sounded off, unbalanced, too rushed, and frantic.

"What is going on?" Ryoma whispered as she stared at the empty courts where her team was supposed to be practicing. Ryoma huffed, set her bag down on the bench, and then headed over to the men's courts.

The crowd surrounding the men's tennis courts was so thick that she couldn't see anything. She headed over to where she knew the gates were and then elbowed the person in her way. A girl glanced over her should, lips curled in a snarl, but merely blinked and stepped aside when she saw it was Ryoma. That girl tapped the boy in front of her on the shoulder, and he moved as well. Thus the pattern continued, until Ryoma finally reached the chain-link fence that surrounded the tennis court.

There were three courts inside the fence, but people were only actively playing on the farthest court; the players on the other two had stopped to watch the first game, eyes so wide with shock that she wondered if they would fall from the second-years' heads. What was happening, and why wasn't Tezuka-buchou ordering people to continue their matches?

Ryoma squinted, and her eyesight filled in all the gaps for her. Understanding flooded her mind, but so much disbelief accompanied it that she couldn't process what she was actually seeing for several minutes.

"43-42, Arai's lead!" the chair umpire yelled.

Ryoma's hands curled through the fence, squeezing so hard that it began leaving impressions in her palms. Eiji was playing Arai—_Arai_—and the score was six games to six . . . with a tie-break in progress. The only time she had ever seen Arai get _a single game_ off Eiji was in middle school, shortly after he returned from having a bad case of the flu. Arai was a joke of a tennis player: a complete and utter joke.

If he were ever slotted to play against Horio, she would bet on _Horio_. That's how terrible and unskilled Arai was. To put it bluntly, he had no talent.

Arai hit a drop-shot, something Eiji had to have been expecting with how far back on the court he was, but Eiji still had to scramble to get it. There was nothing elegant about his play today. Eiji was playing as if he were on a court covered in fog, as if he had no idea who his opponent was, where the ball was being hit, if it had been hit. . . . He seemed to drift in and out of reality from one moment to the next.

"43 all!"

Why? What had happened? This didn't make any sense!

"44-43, Arai leads!"

Eiji had stood still on the court, not even attempting to return that one. He shook his head and leaned forward, as if waiting for the serve that he had already missed.

A girl whose name Ryoma couldn't remember updated the scoreboard.

"Eh? Oops!" Eiji laughed and rubbed the back of his head, but his laughter was hard and sharp, like the shattered racket that had cut above her eye years ago. "I'm not going to lose to you!" Eiji declared, but there was no fire in his voice.

If Ryoma didn't know Eiji as well as she did, she would assume he had no desire to play tennis. "Eiji" and "no desire to play tennis" did not belong in the same sentence. The thought alone gave her chills.

"What happened?" she asked no one in particular, unable to bear the pain of this match any longer. "What in the name of tennis happened?" She growled and clutched the fence more tightly.

"We don't know. He's been like this all morning," the boy next to her whispered. It was so soft that she almost didn't hear it.

"All morning?" asked Ryoma, not willing to believe it.

"All morning," the girl on her other side affirmed.

"47 all!" the umpire declared.

Ryoma saw Eiji's blue eyes go vacant; he was fading out again, just when he had tied the count. Well, despite the rudeness of interrupting a match, she was going to find out what had happened. If she could boss Fuji-senpai around in the middle of the semi-finals at Nationals and order him to play seriously, then she could surely intrude on a paltry match to determine the Regular positions at Seishun Gakuen.

Despite Eiji's current difficulties, which unnerved and aggravated her, it was obvious that he would keep his spot.

Ryoma let go of the fence and pushed the tall gate open. It creaked. Heads swung to face her, including Arai's, but she ignored him after seeing the smug look on his face. What a fool. What an arrogant jerk. Only the weak took pride in winning when their opponent was disabled, whether it was physical, emotional, or mental. He deserved a Scud Serve to the face for that.

Missing the days when her hair was short and she wore that white cap incessantly, for she would dearly love to hide from all the attention she was being subjected to, Ryoma walked across the two courts in the front and strolled over to Eiji; once she reached him, she put her hands on her hips.

"So . . . losing to—"

"I'm not going to lose!" Eiji snarled, eyes ablaze with a passion and fire that had been missing a moment ago. It was brighter than it had ever been before—even brighter than at Nationals. "I won't! I have to win. I _have_ to. Losing isn't an option—not when there's this much on the line. Don't you get it? I cannot lose. It is impossible. Losing would be . . ." His shoulders hunched, and his racket dragged on the ground, but then he straightened himself back up. "I won't lose, Ochibi!"

"Oh?" Eiji seemed very determined not to lose, which made no sense given his performance in the match. If he wanted to win, why wasn't he trying? Maybe she should ask him. "Well if you want to win, then why aren't you trying?" inquired Ryoma.

Eiji reeled backward, as if she had slapped him. "I _am_ trying. Can't you see that?"

"Eh?" Ryoma glanced at the scoreboard. It was pathetic and a disgrace. "It doesn't seem like you're trying at all."

Eiji lifted his racket, as if he were going to throw it and a tantrum, like all of the professionals they despised. "Well I am! All the time! And I'm going to win, Ochibi! You can see that, at least, if you'll pay attention!"

"Then win," Ryoma commanded. "If you want to win, then win." That was more than half the battle; if a player's spirit and focus weren't on the game, then they didn't really stand a chance of being the victor.

Mouth flapping soundlessly, Eiji took a step closer to her. "You want me to win?" he whispered in a daze.

Ryoma frowned and narrowed her gaze. What kind of question was that? He was playing _Arai_. Eiji knew her opinion of Arai, which had only sunk when Arai dared to ask her on a date last year. She had laughed in his face and walked off; it wasn't the politest response, but she felt it was well deserved. She didn't date bullies. "Of course I do, Eiji." Ryoma felt heat race to her cheeks and cursed herself for the slip of her tongue. ". . . senpai," she added belatedly.

It didn't work, though. Eiji wasn't a fool. His piercing gaze informed her that he had caught her slip. She was only grateful that she had been speaking softly, and that no one else had likely heard her.

"Echizen, please get off the court!"

Eiji and Ryoma ignored the interloper. Eiji took another step toward her, a catlike smile coating his face. "You want me to win?" he asked, as if for clarification.

Not knowing why he would need it, she obliged nevertheless. "Yes. I always have." After Eiji won, he was more likely to spontaneously hug her tight to him, or gift her with the smile that was just for her and Oishi-senpai . . . though, lately, the one he gave her did seem different from the one he gave his doubles partner.

Instead of calling her "Ochibi", as he always did, Eiji pulled her against his chest and breathed out her first name. "Ryoma." Shivers traveled down her spine.

"Have you forgotten we're playing a game, Kikumaru-senpai?" Arai asked. When neither replied, he yelled, "Echizen, move it! Now!"

Eiji's attention snapped over to Arai, and his lips curled in disgust. "Never speak to my girlfriend like that, Arai, or else you'll find out why Fujiko-chan is only afraid of me."

Ryoma twitched. Girlfriend? What? Was he joking? She craned her neck back and saw the unmitigated fury on his face. No, definitely not joking. Then what had just . . . ? Ryoma pressed her face against his shoulder to hide her blush; she couldn't let anyone realize she had emotions or could be flustered. But seriously, she felt so stupid!

They had just had an entire conversation about two totally different topics, and she hadn't noticed!

So if Eiji had been talking about winning her as his girlfriend, then that meant he thought she was officially dating Ichima-senpai. It was a logical assumption for him to make, since she very rarely went on dates. He had seen her on one with his own eyes. And that meant his dropped jaw and pausing at the theater had been rage and disbelief; he hadn't really wanted her to enjoy her date, and that was why his voice had sounded so different.

He had been playing so terribly this morning because thoughts of her with someone else had distracted him. Now that she thought about it, she couldn't ever remember Eiji having a girlfriend in the four years that she had known him. Hadn't she asked him about that once when she was a second-year in middle school? What had he said again?

_Now's not the right time. Maybe in two years_? he had said, while staring at her thoughtfully.

She hadn't realized, all this time, that he had meant her—had been waiting for her to grow up and become interested in boys as something other than an opponent for a good tennis match. If she hadn't been so clueless and uninterested in all things romantic back then, then maybe she wouldn't have spent the last year thinking he would never care for her or return her feelings.

"Echizen." It was a single word, spoken in an undeniable tone of command. Tezuka-buchou was like that. He didn't ever need to elaborate for people to understand what he desired of them.

"Coming," she replied. Ryoma stepped away from Eiji and avoided his outreaching hands. Now wasn't the time, and this wasn't the place to discuss what had just happened, and what would be changing between them.

"Kikumaru-sama is dating Echizen-sama?" Half of the fans sounded broken-hearted, and the rest sounded like they were going to become stalkers or create a club supporting their epic tennis love. The thought made her shudder.

"Finally," Arai muttered.

Ryoma glared at him, and then glanced over her shoulder at Eiji. Oh, Arai was going to pay for his arrogance; he would pay very dearly. Not even the Monkey King had managed to irritate her so greatly. "Eiji, if you lose to Arai, I'm breaking up with you." She snickered as Arai's fate was sealed. Eiji's eyes burned with loathing as he turned them on Arai.

She didn't watch Arai serve, but she heard how fast Eiji's return was; it slammed against the court so loudly that the ball wedged itself into the fence when it bounced.

"48-47, Ki-Kikumaru l-leads," the umpire stuttered.

She heard a ball bounce twice, and then there was a moment or two of silence. Eiji's serve made Arai shriek like a girl and fall to the ground. She hadn't even reached the gate she had entered through when Eiji glomped her from behind, arms firm around her waist as he nuzzled her hair.

"I told you that I was going to win, Ryoma. And I'm going to keep on winning for the rest of my life. No matter who my opponent is, no matter how tiring it gets, no matter what. _I will never lose_. So keep believing in me, okay?"

Her catchphrase "you still have lots more to work on" rested on the tip of her tongue. For the first time in her life, she actively resisted the urge to say it. And despite the fact that Ryoma had used up all of her spoken words for the rest of the week in one morning, she decided to start on next week's words anyway. "I never want you to lose. So I'll always believe in you," she said.

The frustrated looks on the faces nearby let her know no one had overheard her confession, even though they had the eavesdropping skills of a five-year-old.

When Eiji clutched her more tightly, Ryoma squirmed. Frowning, Eiji loosened his hold at the long arranged sign that she wanted him to let go. "Ryoma?" Instead of ducking her head, complaining, and wandering off—as she had always done in the past—Ryoma turned around and, for the first time, hugged Eiji.


End file.
